CHAPTER 7,8,9

[ ]:inner voice

CHAPTER 7: The Stranger Has a Name

[Luna’s POV]

“MAMA!”

The word tore out of my throat before I could stop it.

Light.

Flooded the hall. Blinding.

Footsteps

My mom rushed in, my dad behind her, blinking at the scene: me pinned against the wall, a man in black holding my wrist.

“Luna!”

And then my mom’s voice changed from panic to calm.

“Jay?!”

[Wait… what?]

She crossed the hall and grabbed my shoulders. “Luna, stop screaming. This is Jay arora He’s going to be staying here for a while.”

I stared at him. He let go of my wrist slowly. Dark eyes unreadable, jaw tight.

That same black shirt, that same presence — intense, quiet. Scorpio energy.

Behind them, two other figures appeared a man and a woman. Jay’s parents. Smiling, polite, warm even.

“So sorry for the scare,” his mom said gently. “We arrived late, didn’t want to wake anyone. Jay just stepped out…”

[Just stepped out.

At 2 a.m.

In all black.

In our hall.

Sure. Totally normal.]

I opened my mouth. Closed it again. My heart still hammering.

“What… what is he doing here at 2 a.m.?”

My mom squeezed my arm. “Just go back to sleep, Luna. Don’t overthink everything.”

Jay’s father smiled, but his eyes flickered for half a second.

Jay himself said nothing. Just stood there. Watching. Intense.

I grabbed my glass of water, muttered something, and backed toward my room.

Inside, my head was spinning.

[He’s going to be living here.

He was standing in my hall at 2 a.m. in black clothes]

Don’t overthink?

Yeah right.

CHAPTER 8: Killer in the Quad

[Luna’s POV]

The morning sun was blazing, but my brain was still stuck in last night’s nightmare. I’d barely slept. My bag was stuffed with notes and my mouth stuffed with half a sandwich. Mira walked beside me, rolling her eyes at my non-stop chatter.

“So then I told myself, Luna, you’re just overthinking—”

I stopped mid-sentence.

Froze.

In the middle of the university quad crowded, noisy, full of students there he was.

Tall. Dark shirt. Same piercing eyes.

Jay.

I blinked once. Twice.

What the hell is he doing here?

Panic rose. Then anger. Then my brain decided to switch to “public humiliation” mode.

I spun toward him, pointed dramatically, and before Mira could stop me, my voice went up three octaves:

“YOU KILLER!”

Everything stopped.

Students froze mid-walk, heads turned. Conversations cut off like someone pressed mute.

I stomped closer, finger still out like a weapon.

“What are you doing here?! Are you stalking me now?!”

Gasps. Whispers. A couple of people even took their phones out.

Jay just stood there. Confused. Jaw clenched, eyes narrowing slightly. His whole aura said Scorpio patience level: dangerously low.

Mira grabbed my arm, practically dragging me backwards.

“Luna! Are you insane?!” she hissed under her breath.

“But—he—he was in my hall at 2 a.m.—”

Mira clamped a hand over my mouth. “Shut. Up.”

Then she leaned in and whispered, “He’s not stalking you, idiot. He’s a CB-CID officer. He’s here to investigate the murder from last night.”

I blinked at her. My voice dropped to a squeak.

“What?”

Mira let go of me and crossed her arms. “Yeah. The crime scene you literally walked past last night? He’s in charge.”

I looked back at Jay. He was still staring at me, unreadable. My cheeks burned. The crowd started murmuring again.

[Oh great. I just called a government officer a killer. In public. In front of my entire college]

“Uhhh…” I mumbled, hiding behind Mira. “Oops.”

Jay’s lip twitched — not quite a smile, but almost. He turned away, striding toward the administration block, his coat swaying behind him like he owned the place

CHAPTER 9: Questions & Shadows

[Luna’s POV]

The room smelled faintly of coffee and disinfectant. A ceiling fan turned lazily, scattering papers on the desk where Jay sat. The blinds were half-closed, slicing the sunlight into strips across his face.

He didn’t look at me at first.

He was flipping through a file.

My file.

I sat opposite him, palms sweating, heart trying to break out of my ribcage. Mira had been sent out; it was just the two of us now.

“Let’s begin.”

His voice was calm. Low. Controlled.

That voice you don’t interrupt.

He started simple:

> “Name.”

“Luna.”

“Where were you before entering the corridor last night?”

“In the library.”

“What time did you notice the body?”

“Around 10:45… maybe 11.”

“Did you touch anything?”

“No. I know I shouldn’t.”

“Did you see anyone leaving the area?”

“I… thought I felt someone behind me. But no, not clearly.”

Each question slid from him like water.

Each answer felt like pulling teeth from me.

He leaned back, arms crossing over his chest, eyes fixed on me the whole time. His pen tapped against the desk, steady, patient, unreadable.

More questions. Details. Timelines. Descriptions.

I answered everything. My voice kept breaking; he never looked away.

Finally, the pen stilled.

He tilted his head slightly.

>“One last question, Luna.”

My throat tightened.

>“Do you have any suspicion on someone?”

The room went silent. The fan creaked. My heartbeat was the only sound.

I swallowed, stood slowly, and before I could stop myself, I moved closer to him.

One step.

Two.

Until I was right in front of his desk.

He didn’t move. Just watched me.

Eyes dark. Brows slightly lowered.

I bent down, close enough to feel his breath, close enough to see the flecks of gold in his irises.

And whispered:

“You.”

The word barely left my lips — a breath, not a sound.

For a second, neither of us moved.

His eyes flickered.

Then everything inside the room felt like it shifted — heavier, thicker.

TBC

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